Exit Wounds (3/4)
by IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow

Email: Ifmuldercouldseemenow@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13

Summary:  He chased bigfoot and the New Jersey Devil into
the woods; chased after Flukemen and creatures suspiciously
similar to Nessie. He could believe that his son was alive. Her
voice, raspy and pained broke him from his reverie "Mulder,
we have to find him."


Chapter Three
Still in Shock
     
*"You had another dream." Her head rested against his
shoulder as she began to sob and he joined her, joining her in
her mourning. When she pushed back from him, he could
finally see her. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed but bright. Her
voice shook as she spoke, tears bubbling over her eyes.
Mulder's heard stopped in his chest when he heard words he'd
never thought he'd hear again.*

*"He's alive, Mulder."*

*He wanted to believe* 


March 22, 2008 
Arlington, Virginia 

He blinked several times at her words, wanting to believe her
with every fiber of his being. He was the believer, she was the
skeptic and yet and yet. He had a death certificate. He had an
obituary and a local school paper article praising William as an
excellent boy who will be missed. And yet, they had the 'foul
play' newspaper article, and the hazy woman exiting the
hospital. He chased bigfoot and the New Jersey Devil into the
woods; chased after Flukemen and creatures suspiciously
similar to Nessie. He could believe that his son was alive. Her
voice, raspy and pained broke him from his reverie

"Mulder, we have to find him...he-he needs help" she stuttered

His hand tightened around hers and he helped her sit up,
offered her a straw to sip from. He couldn't say he was
surprised at the sheer number of his old allies that had died or
gone into hiding; hell he was sitting in a room that technically
didn't exist with three men who supposedly died over 6 years
ago. The impossible was possible. And if Scully believed, he
had to as well.

"We will find him."


3 Months Ago 
Van de Kamp Residence 

William put his things on the desk in the new room. He'd just
flew in from Wyoming with his Aunt and Uncle. Now his
home was Maryland. Baltimore, Maryland- Home of the
Orioles and Ravens as his new hat and t-shirt claimed. When
his parents died three months ago, his Aunt and Uncle became
his 'Legal Guardians,' at least that's what the paper said that
they signed. The nice man, who was a social worker, told
William about his mother's brother, and sister-in law, who were
from Baltimore and took a plane to come see him. They would
say until the beginning of January, and then he would move in
with them before school was back in session. That was the
plan. It was December now. And here he was.

Before the move, William heard his Aunt and Uncle talking
sometimes through the walls of his parents old farmhouse
about them staying in Wyoming for four months. It was for
'stability' and 'we don't want to uproot him' and 'My sister is
dead, his Mother and Father- He needs time to adjust before the
move.'

His Aunt wasn't happy. His Uncle wanted to teach him baseball
and 'bouncing around can't be good for a child.' He liked his
Uncle. And now he was in Baltimore. So far he liked
Baltimore.


Present Day 
March 22, 2008 
Baltimore, MD 
6:30 pm 

"The house should be coming up on your left," Monica Reyes
spoke, the gps on her phone showing a little arrow to alert them
that they were .3 miles away. He nodded and soon found the
house, small compared to others in the neighborhood, but
presentable.

"This the house, Mon?" Dogget asked, sliding from Monica's
jeep. She nodded, something he knew was her saying 'Looks
like it,' and they walked together to the front door. He thought
for a moment. What was the best way to start this? These were
the kid's Aunt and Uncle-in legal technicalities. There was no
information how William 'died,' so they would have to ask.
This wasn't going to be pretty.

Monica knocked at the oak door. No answer. She knocked
again. "Mr. and Mrs. Van de Kamp? We're with the F.B.I." Her
eyebrow quirked. That was something he loved about Monica.
Say what you will about her Whale noises and mood rings, the
woman could see suspicion as if it were written all over the
door frame. He couldn't admit how many times these instincts
of hers had saved their lives. As if on cue, she turned and
whispered 'something's off here,' just as the door opened and
Dogget's phone began to buzz.

"Can I help you?"


One Month Ago 
Baltimore, Maryland 
Van de Kamp Residence 

The transition had not been easy. But his parents-well, his
adopted parents had died nearly 6 months ago. He missed them. 
His Aunt Sarah didn't like him. Uncle Peter tried but worked a 
lot. He wanted to tell him about his dreams; Uncle Peter was the 
only one who would listen, but he was never home.

William concentrated hard and the pencil slid across the desk.
He smiled at the 'powers' he had adapted since he came to
Baltimore. He didn't get to be like Spiderman- but maybe
Charles Xavier would come for him soon? He grabbed the
pencil and drew himself 'Mind-Boy.' He shook his head. Maybe
his friend Eileen would have a better name. She read comic
books and believed that he was a superhero. She didn't even
laugh when he flexed his muscle at her and she didn't call him a
freak in her head she he first showed her that he could move
things-little things. He hadn't stepped in any radioactive
puddles- he would remember, they were bright green and
glowy, like in the comic books Aunt Sarah didn't like him
reading before bedtime. But, he read somewhere that there
were people like him out there.

Before he came to Baltimore, he knew he was adopted- except
he didn't actually know what that meant; he still remembered
talking with his Mom and Dad about it, back when he was five.

*"Why don't you and Dad ever call me, Willie?" His mother
stopped kneading the dough for the apple pie she was making
and turned around to look at her son, eyebrow quirking in
confusion.*

*"Why would we call you that, William?"*

*"The woman with the red hair always calls me 'Willie'" His
mother's brows knot, forming a firm line between her eyes just
as his father walks in, ruffling his dark red-brown hair.*

*"How was school, Billy boy?"*

*"And she told the bald man not to call me 'Bill.' That's her
brother's name and the man with the big nose says I'm too cute
to be Bill." His Dad looks at his Mom, but his mom seems
convinced of something. She wipes her hands on the dishtowel
on her shoulder and sits next to him.*

*"Who tells you these things, William?"*

*"The woman with the red hair, when I'm dreaming. Why does
she call me her baby boy?" His father, finally sensing where
the conversation is going pulls out the chair next to William,
their smart boy who is already in the first grade even though he
should be just starting preschool. They knew this conversation
was coming, but they thought they had more time- at least 5
more years.*

*"William, remember when I told you that you didn't come
from Mommy's belly like the other kids- that you were special,
our Miracle." The young boy nods his head, his spelling
homework long forgotten. His mom takes his hand in hers and
squeezes lightly. "God brought you to Mommy and Me from
another Mommy and Daddy."*

*"The woman with the red hair?"*

*"Yes," his father concedes. They didn't know anything about
the real mother of their son, but they did know that William
was special. If he said he remembered this woman, then they
would believe him. They loved him regardless. His mother
looks frightened- it's the face she gets when she thinks she's
said something wrong. She begins to stammer out her words-*

*"But, William, we love you very, very much and-"William is
confused. Of course they love him, but he suddenly feels like he
needs to say it.*

*"I love you too, Mom." He feels the hair on his neck stand at
attention from the puff of air that comes from his father, who
was an apparently holding his breath. William doesn't know
why but it comes as a relief in the heat of their home. His Mom
has tears in her eyes and he doesn't know why but soon he's in
her arms and she's rubbing his head and his Dad is holding
them both.*

*They go out for dinner that night, a huge treat, and ice cream
too. He even gets a double scoop. He smiles up at his Dad who
ruffles his hair again and calls him a garbage disposal. His
mom emerges from the stand with her own Strawberry scoop.* 

*"Joe, don't call him that," she says, slapping his shoulder
lightly. She crouches down to her son and looks him in the
eyes. "He looks more like a 'Billy Goat to me." He bops his
mom on the nose with his cone and she recoils, laughing as she
falls on her bum. His Dad helps his mom up and wipes her
nose with a napkin. As he's looking at them he smiles. His Dad
really loves his mom. Girls are icky, but his mom is cool. He
doesn't want to make her cry again like he did earlier, so he
won't tell her what else he remembers from when he was a
little, tiny baby.*

*The woman with red hair singing to him and rocking him in
her arms. Sometimes, when he went to sleep he could look up
and see the woman with the red hair and a man with a big nose
holding him. He would whisper something too soft for William
to hear and she smiled, and then they kissed. He remembered
some other faces too, although mostly they were blurry. If he
thought reaaallly hard and put on this thinking cap, like they
taught him the first day of 1 st grade (even though he was
about to be a second grader), he could remember a dark room
where the redheaded woman was crying and he was scared,
but then she held him and the man with the nose came and the
woman with brown hair yelled at him to "Get her the fudge out
of here." Well, she didn't say fudge, but his mom had always
taught him that those words were potty words and poopy
language was for the toilet.* 

*He shook his head from his thoughts when his Dad called him
along* 

*"C'mon, Billy Goat." He smiled and joined hands with his
Dad.*

Now he knew what 'adopted' meant. It meant that his real
Mommy and Daddy didn't really want him, at least that's what
he heard his Aunt Sarah say in her head. 'Freak,' and 'That boy
is weird. Something is wrong with him' and 'No wonder he was
given up for adoption.' He didn't think his real Mommy hated
him- now she was in his dreams a lot and she held him and told
him she loved him and she missed him.

He closed his eyes and pictured her for a moment and suddenly
the pencil started scribbling on the paper by itself. He thought
about her eyes and how she smiled at him in his dreams, and
how she had long, long hair now- not like when he was a baby.
He opened his eyes and saw that his pencil had drawn her. He
smiled at her smiling at him and taped her photo above his bed.

Now it would be just like when he was a baby and she would
watch over him in his crib.


Present Day 
Baltimore, Maryland 
6:35 pm 
Van de Kamp Residence 

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, we're with the FBI, Mrs. Van de Kamp and we're here to
talk about William." She opens the door wider after inspecting
their badges and lets them into the house. The house has an odd
smell. John Dogget shoots Monica a look- something here isn't
right. Where are things a little boy would need? Where are the
family pictures? Doggett's phone is buzzing again, and again.
Something is off in this house. Not wanting to disturb the
conversation when Mrs. Van de Kamp offers them a drink he
obliges (something he normally never does-earning a shocked
look from Monica) and checks his phone. Two messages in big
bold letters:

DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE!

LEAVE NOW!

He stands abruptly and shows Monica the phone, just as Mrs.
Van de Kamp's shoes are heard clicking across the wood
finished floors. Mulder's been one to exaggerate before, but
he's learned to trust the man. His fingers are on the weapon
under his suit jacket, as are Monica's.

"Mrs. Van de Kamp?"

"We don't have the boy now. But we have our ways," she
whispered harshly. Her voice seemed to be coming from all
around the house. Doggett drew his gun and pushed Monica
behind him, shielding her. "We'll have him and her."

They were backed against the huge-paned windows, white
curtains blowing in the wind, beings emerging from crevices in
the home. "We could have you too," she spoke. He looked
down and saw his son's face staring back at him.

*"Dad, when are we going to play catch? Huh?"* The boy was
tugging on his father's pants

"Luke"

*"You said you'd watch me ride my bike, no training wheels-
but you didn't"*

"JOHN," he could hear Monica shouting, and suddenly his gun
was ripped from his hands and he was being pushed through
the glass pane.


One Day Ago 

The 7 year old boy hopped from the bus with his green
backpack slung from his shoulder, the LL Bean one that his
mother had gotten personally made for him right before she
died 7 months ago. Well, 7 months and 4 days to be specific.
The backpack had a baseball and basketball that she stitched
personally on each side, and the LL Bean letters for WFV. He
didn't know why his middle name was 'Fox' but he did know it
was because of his birth mother. Who named a kid Fox? That
was dumb. His mother seemed to like it though, and they told
him the story of when she and his father first met him.

His Mother's name was Louise, and his Dad's name was
Joseph. Louise and Joseph Van de Kamp. He didn't know what
his name was before he was adopted, and neither did his
parents but they knew he was William Fox. He had to admit,
William Fox Van de Kamp did have a sort of ring to it. All the
girls in his class thought so anyway, although he only really
talked to Eileen, who could beat him in basketball and didn't
cry when she fell down.?

His real mother was in his dreams often but it wasn't just
dreams anymore. Sometimes, he could hear her. A few weeks
ago he heard her crying. Apologizing to a Mulder, a man he
realized must be the man with the big nose that he saw while
building sandcastles sometimes.

He heard her whisper his name a lot. *William ,William,
William.* Sometimes, when he was really sad and his Aunt was
being mean he would concentrate really hard and dream of her.
He tried not to though, because they always made her cry, and
he just wanted to make her happy.

He was suddenly sad. He wanted his mom. His *real* mom.
His Aunt was mean to him. He could hear her call him a 'freak'
all the time, and his Uncle argued with her a lot now. It was his
fault. Why was he always messing things up? He didn't want to
live with his Aunt anymore. He wanted his mommy, his real
mommy. He wanted to hug her and he wanted her to look over
his homework. She loved him, and called for him in her
dreams. Sometimes when he could see her dreams, he would
just watch. The boy never had a face, but she called him
William. In her dreams, sometimes she'd be watching him play
baseball, or making cookies. Other times she would be
snuggling on a couch with him or packing a lunch and putting
it in a Spiderman lunch box. Is this what all grownups dreamed
of? He stayed away from her scary dreams, with people who
weren't people and dying.

He wanted to be with her. She wanted a William and he was
William. So, he thought about what he wanted. Really hard.

*'I want to come home'*

His Mom and Dad wouldn't have died in the car accident if he
hadn't complained about seeing the movie even though it was
really raining. And his Aunt said something was wrong with
him- that's why he had to be adopted. What did he do? Finally,
he got up the courage to try to ask his mommy, even though he
knew she wouldn't be able to really hear him. It would be just
like the dreams. He could just watch and hear. But he did it
anyway.

*'What did I do wrong, Mommy?'*

Expecting to hear nothing back, he continued to walk from
school, suddenly tired. He could feel his mother's anguish.
She'd heard him. She heard him. She never heard him when she
was awake. Suddenly, he felt bad. He could feel the fatigue in
her bones. Had he been keeping her up by trying to talk to her
in her dreams? He resigned to leave her alone.

*'You're tired, Mommy'*

He was almost home when Eileen ran behind him, poking him
in the back. "Got you" she squealed, "I got you good!" He
smiled, generally happy that his friend had surprised him.
"Wanna walk with me to the bookstore? They got the new -"

Suddenly, Eileen was pushed to the ground, her and knees now
in the mud. "Hey," William spun around, faced with Rodney,
the fifth grader who was supposed to be in sixth grade. In
Baltimore, William was moved to the 3rd grade, but he was tall
for his age. Just not as tall as 6th graders. And Rodney had
muscles, while he was lanky. "Going to the bookstore with
your girlfriend, Toucan Sam?"

"Don't call me that, Rodney!" William shouted, stepping
forward and looking up at the boy. "Give me back Eileen's
backpack!" Rodney looked him up and down.

"And what are you going to do if I don't, Fruit Loops?" William
charged at the boy, but was stopped by his heavy fist hitting his
face. William was on the ground, a metallic taste in his mouth.
Rodney rummaged through Eileen's backpack, dumping her
drawings into the mud as she tried to stop him. He shoved her-
hard, and she hit her head on the ground and started to cry,
cradling it.

"Boo hoo," Rodney mocked, finally pulling out her Winx Club
wallet that had the money for her new book in it.

William felt the dirt beneath his now scratched palms and made
a fist, licking the blood from his bottom lip. He glared at
Rodney as Eileen cried. He couldn't do anything. It was just
like with his parents. Eileen would die from her bumped head
and it would be his fault. He was angry. Angry, Angry, Angry.
He hated Rodney, even though his Mom and Dad told him
never to hate. They were dead. And he did hate Rodney. He
hated the fact that he stuck gum in Eileen's hair, and knocked
his books from his hands in school. He hated that everyone in
school now called him 'Toucan Sam' or 'Fruit Loops' because of
his nose and most of all he hated Rodney for being Rodney. He
scrunched his eyes as tears slipped from his eyes, and suddenly
Rodney was shouting. Will's eyes popped open and Rodney's
clothes were on fire. He stop dropped and rolled to the ground,
like they'd taught them in the assembly.

William, wide eyed and terrified, pushed himself to his feet and
bolted home.

"William, William come back!" He heard Eileen shout as he
ran, his feet heavy on the cement. He had to get help. Had to go
home.

He ran home to tell his Aunt Sarah, but stopped at the door.

This wasn't the can of soda moving on the table in his first
week with his Aunt. This wasn't the 
lights flicking back on when she'd turned them off and told him
to go to bed, nor was this his motorized car moving where he
wanted even after he lost the remote. Rodney was hurt. He
could hear the sound of ambulances in the distance. Would his
Aunt Sarah think that he set Rodney on fire?

Did he?

William creaked the door open. He didn't normally hear
people's thoughts but he normally heard something small from
his Aunt. Like "Peas," "Need to buy more eggs." Today was
different. As soon as he opened the door and walked in he
heard his Aunt's panicked voice in his head.

"RUN! RUN! RUN!"

He looked at the top of the stairs and saw himself staring back
at him, smiling. That was him, except it wasn't. His heart was
in his throat and he wanted to cry. Instead, his brain screamed

*'Mommy help! Save me!'*

He bolting down the street, suddenly thinking of his mom, his
real mom. They were going to hurt him. He was scared. He ran
to where he left Eileen to see that neither she nor Rodney was
there. He needed to get to Eileen's house. She must be there. He
looked back and his Aunt was walking quickly down the street,
except she wasn't his Aunt. His Aunt had a different walk, and
she never looked at him like *that.*

He finally reached Eileen's house and banged on her door. He
banged and cried and banged, finally trying to knob and finding
that it was open. He ran in and slammed the door, only to be
greeted with a foul smell. He crinkled his nose, but turned and
locked the door- all three latches. The person wasn't him and
his Aunt- she wasn't his Aunt.

*"They're right outside the door."* His conscious screamed.
He couldn't call the police. He needed to find Eileen. She
would believe him. She thought that it was cool that he could
move his pencil across the desk without touching it.

His eyes widened and he ran to the upstairs, where music was
blaring.

"Eileen," he shouted as he ran into her room, ignoring the
smell. She immediately stopped her Brittney Spears song and
looked at him shocked. "Eileen, you gotta help me. My-my
mom they got her and someone's-they're me but they aren't an"

"Slow down, Will," she said, quirking her head to the side.
"What happened?" The boy took a deep breath, about to tell her
what happened when he looked over Eileen's clothes. She was
wearing the same clothes.

"What happened to your muddy romper?" His mind was
screaming. Screaming Screaming. Something was wrong here.
This wasn't right. "You were supposed to be easy," she seethed.
He spun around at the sound of the downstairs door being
kicked open and when he turned back around he was staring at
his Mom.

*"Hey there, Billy Goat."* His fell to the ground just as the
thing approached him, morphing into a grey being...an *alien.*
He pack pedaled on his hands to Eileen's closet as fast as he
could and held the door shut. He snapped his eyes closed.
Terrified. Suddenly, the alien was screaming, a high-pitched
wail, but he was too afraid to see why. He sat on the floor of
the closet, his eyes shut tight, waiting for the other being to
come get him. His hands were raised above his head, grasping
the door knob, but he knew that if It could kick in a door, it
could pull one from his tiny hands. He was going to die. He
would never meet his mom. So he did what he could. He
imagined her. He thought of her coming to rescue him.

He heard a baby cry off in the distance and realized his mom
was dreaming- about him. Would she hear him if he tried to
talk to her this time? She heard him last time, but he made her
sick. He didn't even know what to say. He was crying and his
thoughts were blending together. He was so afraid, and they got
him, and he was scared and why did she give him up? He heard
his voice on the baby monitor in her dream, though he couldn't
see her.

*It was so dark* 

He heard her whisper "Momma's got you. I'll protect you," and
for a moment he thought she did. But she didn't.

She was crying, sobbing for him and he couldn't get to her. She
was screaming for him and he was crying. His eyes popped
open, and he was no longer in her dream- he was in the real
world where *aliens* were going to kill him. He squinted his
eyes in the sudden light, ready to die, and he could feel his
mom, still in her dream-screaming for him. Suddenly, a blonde
haired woman stepped through the threshold and grabbed his
arm tightly, pushing a smooth needle into his skin. His eyes
widened in horror instantly as the liquid pulsed into his veins.
He couldn't feel his mom.

*'I can't feel you, Mommy. Where are you'* His mind
screamed. She didn't answer. He couldn't hear her, or see her
dream. "Get off me!" William screamed, thrashing in the
woman's arms, kicking his arms and legs. They killed his mom.
They must have. She was dead. He couldn't hear her. Fat tears
moved down his cheeks as he tried to fight the woman off.

"William. I'm here to help you."

*"Alien! ALIEN! ALIEN!"* He screamed, his voice hoarse and
nose running. She smacked him across the face and he stopped
screaming, now looking at her with wide eyes.

"My name is Marita and I'm going to take you somewhere safe"


Baltimore 
Van de Kamp Residence 
6:50 pm 

"Monica?" He questioned, the woman firmly laying on his
chest, shards of glass surrounding them. She stumbled to her
feet, and grabbed his hand.

"Run."

She was in the car and gunning the gas while he was still
sliding in the seat, trying to figure out what the hell was going
on. She pulled out her phone and pushed the speed dial, harshly
maneuvering the wheel and peeling around corners like bat out
of hell.

"We almost fucking died, Mulder," she shouted, Doggett still
trying to piece together what had just happened. "I don't know
what this was, but it wasn't a super soldier." She nodded and
agreed a few more times. "We'll be there in an hour."

They drove, maneuvering on the highway. Her hands were tight
and white-knuckled on the steering wheel as she pushed 50,
then 60, then 70.

"Mon-"

"You had your gun in your mouth, John." Her eyes were
beginning to cloud with tears that she refused to let fall.

"I-I can't remember."

"It was smiling and you were smiling, so please, tell me- what
the hell was so damn enjoyable?" Her voice is rough and
strained, and she's trying so hard to be angry but her tears are
stopping her.

"Luke- he, he was asking me about baseball and his bicycle.
That's all I can remember." Her eyes widen and he comes to a
realization. "You saved my life, Monica." She nods and keeps
driving, refusing to admit that she's crying over him. He
reaches out his hand and takes one of hers off the wheel,
holding it tightly. He's rubbing small circles over the veins in
her hands and finally brings it to his lips, kissing it softly. "I
guess that makes us even." She laughs then, and looks at him
briefly.

"Not on your life."


The Lone Gunman Lair 
Virginia 
8:57 pm 

Scully is out of the bed and walking around, claiming recovery
when Reyes and Doggett reach the hideout. Scully meets eyes
with Reyes, noticing that her eyes are red-rimmed. They will
talk about it later.

"Mulder," John Doggett begins, the name coming out as
Muldah instead. "These things, they're different- they don't just
shapeshift," he says, remembering the time he saw the Scully
that wasn't Scully grasping at a man's throat.

"How so?" Scully interjects, he hand resting on Mulder's
shoulder as he peers over papers.

"I-

"They make you hallucinate," Monica fills in. "And while they
have you in that state, they can control you."

"Super soldiers can't do that."

"They can now." Skinner says, his arms folded over his torso.

"What made you send that text, Mulder?" Monica questions,
moving a strip of gauze over the place in her arm that was cut
from the window.

"The guys found a code. The death certificate along with the
news article were faked."

"You mean, he never died?" Monica chimed in.

"It was a lure. They knew we'd look, and go after the source to
find answers. They needed us at that house" Doggett sighs and
sits down on one of the stools, taking the beer that Frohike
offers him.

"Someone was watching William from afar- all this time. We
never would have even known something happened to him
without the article planted on Agent- erm Dana" Byers spoke.
"We pulled up the stolen license plates from the hospital and
through multiple encryptions- we're still waiting now fo"

"Guys!" Langly shouted from his computer, the group
crowding him. "This person worked hard to disguise
themselves, but I figured out all the riddles and clues they left,
it was like a breadcrumb trail. Here's an address. It's nearly 40
minutes from here.

Scully immediately disengaged from the group and did a quick
jog to the bed, bracing herself momentarily on the bedpost
when black spots swam in her vision. She slid her shoes on just
as Mulder whipped around. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going, Mulder."

"Like hell you are. Scully, you can barely stand," he attempted
to reason, standing mere inches from her small form,
interrupting her just as she was about to speak "Don't you dare
tell me you're 'fine' either." He softend and touched her face,
running his fingers under her rimmed eyes. "I won't have you
hurting yourself." She looked at him, her eyes hard and
determined.

"He's our son, and I won't let him go again." She shook from
his grasp and walked to grab a gun. Monica tried to speak with
her friend, noticing the shake in her hands as she frustrated
herself with the lock on the cabinet that held their highly illegal
guns.

"Dana, maybe-?" The lock came undone and she grabbed a
small firearm, placing it in the small of her back.

"I'm going. With or without your help." Her shoulders lifted
and fell as she breathed heavily, her back to the room. When
she turned, Mulder already had his firearm in place, his arms
folded over his chest and Skinner spoke.

"We didn't come all this way not to help you."